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Monday, December 1, 2014

The Night of the Troglodytes

The nights have been too cold and we need to seek warmer weather, plus we want to be in Minden, Nevada in two days, so this morning we pack up and leave our spot at Eagle Lake.

We pass a derelict cattle ranch with the type of trees I suspect enjoy funerals.

The Walmart in Susanville, California is our intended destination, and after an uneventful drive we begin the descent into town. Susanville doesn't look too bad from this vantage point.

Arriving at the Walmart, we are disappointed since the area to the rear of the store is blocked by shipping containers, and we would have to park in full view of the world. It is also windy and I have to play goalie as shopping carts are blown full-speed towards the Airstream while we are parked. I don't really want to do this all night.

There is one casino in this town and they allow overnight parking, so we figure it has to be better than this. And for the first few hours, it is.

I do laundry and stock up on groceries while Hubs stays with Otis and Murray. As I am unloading groceries, I set out all of the replenishments for our first aid kit, including Tums, Peptobismal, tissues, and other odds and ends. Hubs looks askance and says "I don't know what you've got planned, but count me out!"

When night falls, we get comfortable, curl up in bed, and fall asleep.

WHUMP WHUMP WHUUUUUUMP

It sounds like somebody is playing music loudly in their car, with a bass on overdrive, but we soon discover that there is a party tent next to the casino that is hosting some kind of hip-hop dance.

I can just picture the troglodytes slumping about on the dance floor, sloshing beer out of their red plastic cups and guffawing at each other. I detest every one of them. Even though they have every right to be there, and this isn't a campground, and there aren't quiet hours, and we aren't paying anything for this spot. But reason is not functioning at midnight when both of us are dead tired and trying to sleep.

I continue wishing blisters on their feet until 2 a.m. when the party finally dies down and the whump whump stops. We drift into an uneasy slumber and wake unrefreshed, with a strong desire to get out of town.

Back on the road again, we reach Bordertown, the appropriately-named town on the state line between California and Nevada.

There is a dump station at the RV resort just off the highway where, with a Good Sam discount, we pay $7 to rid ourselves of the contents of our tanks.

For those who don't RV, this is what a dump station looks like.

We pass through Reno as quickly as possible, only because we hate congested highway driving, and drive through Nevada's capitol, Carson City.

Just a few miles south of town is Minden, and we locate the church that we will be attending tomorrow morning. They were kind enough to allow us to park in their lot overnight, and we really had no idea what to expect, but this area is stunning. We are in a valley, surrounded by hazy blue mountains. On the other side of that range is Lake Tahoe.

An evening back in Carson City gives us a last chance to pick up groceries and gas, which is an excellent idea if you are going south on Hwy 395, because gas jumps over a dollar per gallon in the few towns between here and Bishop, California.

As the sun sets, an unusually cold air mass descends on Carson City and wind howls around the camper at twenty degrees, leaving us shivering in our bed.

We really need to vacate this cold weather. The pugs are planning to mutiny.

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